


Owl

by The_Doom_Dahlia



Series: Dance 'Til You're Dead [2]
Category: The Wicked + The Divine
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe-No Gods, Club AU, Mini needs a break and a hug, References to Alcohol, References to Drugs, References to Smoking, Smoking, Tiny inventor bby., parental pressure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 00:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4543899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Doom_Dahlia/pseuds/The_Doom_Dahlia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows that none of her friends are Gods.</p><p>But hell if they aren’t better than what she has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Owl

**Author's Note:**

> Second drabble! WOO!
> 
> Side note: I learned today that the 'Underage' tag is NOT for underage drinking or drugs! It's for something that is NOT gonna be in the story.
> 
> Lessons learned.
> 
> Enjoy!

Molly knows that none of them are Gods. She always reflects on that as she tinkers at little robots shaped like owls and other birds of prey, things that might revolutionize the world someday, and just before slipping into a persona that is in no way her. The people she involves herself with, who she parties with at night even though she's underage and should know better than to hang around these 'drunken, high assholes'. These people are not Gods.

She knows because ‘Woden’ lives in her apartment building, in the place right below where her family lives, and he plays his music far too loudly, and sometimes she can hear him in the dark of the night, making odd grunting noises and yelling to nothing at all that he is powerful, that he is immortal. She’s never seen his face as he leaves his apartment, always covered in a hoodie that looks like a robot’s helmet and quickly riding off in the biggest car she’s ever seen. Her mother likes to joke that he’s ‘compensating for something’. Molly’s not sure what that means.

She knows because ‘Lucifer’ is really just Ellie Rigby from a few streets over, that odd girl whose parents listen to too many Beatles records and who Dad swears is going to die of lung cancer in a few years. Ellie works at the town record shop, and whenever Molly goes in to pick up some record her father ordered, she speaks with a voice like a lioness’s growl, and slips her some CDs from bands she’s never heard of. “Stiff upper lip, Owl.” she always says, just as Molly’s leaving and as she coughs and lights another cigarette.

She knows because ‘Amaterasu’ is Hazel, her babysitter (which she constantly tells her parents is not needed, but they don’t seem to care), who bakes sugar cookies and tells Molly stories about her dogs, and who Molly hears talking to Ellie about what they’ll do that night, sounding eager and murmuring something about ‘Ananke’. She’s the one who ends up pulling her by the hand into the brightly flashing world below the city, inhabited by people who call themselves ‘Gods’. But they aren’t.

Molly knows that they aren’t, because ‘Baal’ is the rather rude businessman who goes to the same coffee shop by her building every single day. She knows because ‘Inanna’ collects donations at the Tesco for local Human Rights groups, because ‘The Morrigan’ goes to her psychologist and seems to switch personalities sometimes, never letting go of the hand of ‘Baphomet’. These are not Gods, in any way, shape, or form.

But she goes to the ‘Pantheon’ anyway.

She goes because there’s so much pressure on her. Her mother and father want her to be absolute perfection, and push her to be the very best that she can be, relentless in their want for her to be good (and for her to get them up rich off her inventions). It feels like a rock pushes on her heart and mind every time she does anything, a fist of parental duress crushing any ease she has. Sometimes, it feels like she will break into pieces.

So, she waits until her parents are blitzed on wine and dresses to the nines in a marching coat her brother gave to her when he left for university, some Ozian glasses, and one of her creations, a silver plated owl that will turn its head and hoot on command. Molly grabs a spare key just in case and flees to the Pantheon, all the while murmuring like a mantra ‘My name is Minerva’ to drill the name into her skull, where she’s greeted with a big grin and a bear hug by Amaterasu, and Baal gives her a snuff and a smile as a hello, and Lucifer cooes ‘Hey there, Owl’ and talks about new bands with her, and where no one puts pressure on her or yells at her for doing something inaccurately.

She knows that none of her friends are Gods.

But hell if they aren’t better than what she has.


End file.
